Strings (BNHA x OC)

111 || Denim

Third Person P.O.V.

"You don't seem surprised by my attendance." Best Jeanist said as the rest of the denim of his jacket threaded back together.

"I'm not," Puppet responded.

To him, her voice sounded far away and like it was resonating from all around him. It was odd... and it made it extremely hard to pinpoint her location. "Terse and stiff, unlike your usual personality."

"Well, you're going to be a pain in my ass."

"That's the job I've been tasked with."

"Fantastic."

"..Indeed."

After a few long and silent moments, Best Jeanist spoke again.

"So are you going to fight me, or are you going to stay scared?"

"I'm not scared," she said curtly.

"If that's what you say."

Puppet treaded carefully through the bushes and watched as Best Jeanist slowly turned in a circle, surveying his surroundings.

"You don't do well in terrains like this, do you?" She asked.

"Every thread must adapt to what it's needle commands, I'm sure you would understand that." His voice was calm and collected as he continued to look for the villain.

Puppet hummed in agreement, "But unlike you, I do well in forests."

Unknown to Best Jeanist, while Puppet was talking, hidden by the trees and bushes, she had released several souls. They had begun to surround him, forming a circle and cutting off any of his easy escape routes.

"You know, I've always admired the way you fight, in fact, our quirks are quite similar. I control my strings much like the way you manipulate fibers."

"Flattering, truly," he said. "But you and I are nothing alike."

"Really? Is that what you think?"

"Yes. You're wicked and a murderer." He said. "You and your villainous group are dirtying hero society with your lies and deceits. I've come to end that."

She scoffed at that. "That's one thing I never understood about any of you heroes... Where does all that heroism come from? All this heroic talk? You came back from the dead to fight me. But the thing you heroes underestimate is the way the world balances. For the brighter the light..." Puppets voice faded.

"...the darker the shadows." Her voice was now directly behind Best Jeanist.

Best Jeanist spun around and he unraveled the denim of his jacket into threads that he could wrap around the entity behind him.

The fibers wrapped around none other than one of Puppets souls. He flung the soul to the side and into the trunk of a nearby tree. The collision was enough to destroy the soul.

"Such a cheap trick. Stop playing games, don't ride on the coattails of your souls." Best Jeanist growled.

All he got in response was a dark, echoing chuckle that resonated from everywhere around him. It was as if he was in the middle of a large, dome-shaped room. The sound surrounded him, coming from all directions and angles.

"Where are you?" He whispered to himself.

He heard a small rustle and looked to the sound to see a soul slip away behind a nearby tree.